A few weeks ago as I was obliviously painting the kitchen and listening to The Kooks at ear-endangering volumes, ChiliD and Mel were sitting at the Chatterbox over in St. Paul. They waited patiently for me to join them, but I was much too busy ‘moving in my own way.’

It was hours later when I noticed the missed phone call, and checked my e-mail. I had totally spaced my breakfast date with the Chiliwinkers. It’s a little frightening when you wholly forget something like a breakfast date. The only thing that saved me from endless bouts of self-flagellation was that I stood them up together and not separately.

Because the Chiliwinkers are kind souls, they invited me to the Chatterbox for breakfast once again. Mostly so they could give me the ritual evisceration I so richly deserved for my faux pas.

But more than that, they totally replenished my soul. I love being a Chiliwinker. Our happy little trio is just so awesome. It’s one of those friendships where there’s so much more giving than taking. They are easily some of the most supportive, understanding people I’ve ever met. This is why I’m so glad that I dragged my germ-addled, flame-throated body out to breakfast. Because while my health is still precarious, my burnoutedness is totally on the mend.

Yay Chiliwinkers.